Ian Robert McKinlay (23 Aug 1956 - 7 Nov 2015)

For those beautiful minds like Ian's

In memory of Ian

So very sorry xxxx

In memory of my wonderful son Ian whom I love very much. Love mum xx

In the 9 years I’ve had Ian as my step dad I’ve been lucky enough to have his support constantly there through the thick and thin. Ian has been a huge inspiration during my toughest times throughout my life and has been the person I could rely on for a chat, advice and to give me a wider picture on the world around. He was a calm and collected guy when it came to tackling tough matters, and always knew exactly what to say to me in my roughest of times.
Some of my fondest memories revolve around me and Ian joking around in the house together, mum used to call us the family clowns and we lived up to that reputation. We’d always find ways to wind each other up in the most irritating way, but we never minded… That’s just who Ian was, an amazing guy with a huge heart and a great sense of humour. His booming laugh resonated through the house at a moments notice, and a big hug was always waiting at the bottom of the stairs every day upon his return from work.
Ian was a very caring step dad, and during my time living with him I found that he was able to be a rock in the roughest of times, and was always prepared to go the extra mile for his family and friends. Another one of my fondest memories is as simple as driving to secondary school every morning with him, with either Radio 4 or ‘Me And My Monkey’ (Robbie Williams) blaring out the speakers. They were fun times and it always made the start to any early morning that bit more bearable.
I talk about Ian’s sense of humour fondly as it was such a key feature of his personality, and it was instantly recognisable from his bad jokes (good jokes), the deafening laughter (mid-joke), and the ‘quirky’ nature of their executions. He was an amazing man with the best stories and the best ways to tell them. He’d often have us all laughing even before the punch line! A particular favourite thing about Ian (that we all laughed hysterically at for a good few years) was his speedo man persona. His terminator like posture leading to a Usaine Bolt pose all in the skimpiest speedos on the beach in Jamaica after winning a game of volleyball is still one of the funniest images I’ll ever remember.
For a laugh Ian was great, but for times where we really needed a shoulder to lean on, Ian became that shoulder. He always would come in to my room and chat with me for hours about what’s going on at the moment. He’d want to catch up and chip in advice on how to tackle problems that were circulating in my life at that time, or workload that I may be dealing with. He was a very wise man filled with useful ideas and feedback (even if his song writing skills were lacking!), however my favourite piece of advice he’s given me is PMA- Positive mental attitude. This is what I believe Ian lived by and what he's engrained in all of us; he was passionate about his friends and family and never had a bad word to say about anyone, and lived with a smile on his face and a laugh just a moment away.
I know that through the lessons I've been taught by Ian, and the love he has showed us for all these years , I will be able do him proud. He’s carried us for 9 years, and now its our turn to carry his memory onwards. We miss you so much Ian, and we will always love our smihan.
Adam xxxx (Ad the bad)

To Dad,
This says it all.
With infinite love, from your son, Miles. x

MILES' EULOGY FOR HIS DAD.
I will always think of my Dad with a smile on his face, and for the last few weeks when I’ve been speaking about him to people, I find I smile every time. My Dad was a positive person and at times like these it’s easy to be negative, however I believe in times such as these that you need to live the dash. When visiting someone’s grave you see the year they were born and the years they died, those two dates are connected by a dash. The dash represents the life of the person. I will remember my father’s dash as him, having integrity, him as a gentleman and as an ultimate professional, unlike Hadleigh, I found Dad outrageously funny. Especially his stories. One of my favourite ones is the bow and arrow story.
Dad was around 10 or 11 and decided to go round and play with one of his mates. As he turns up he sees him in the back garden with a bow and arrow. Dad says ‘What are you doing with that?’ He gets a reply of, ‘well, watch me hit that target over there with this arrow Ian’, Right ok says Dad. So he’s there with all his might trying to get the bow back far enough to release the arrow. Finally it just about hits the intended target. See Ian, Very good Dad says, bet you can’t do it again. Bet I can. So he sets off again really pushing himself as he’s not strong enough to properly operate it. He lets go and the arrow goes flying, this time now where near its intended target. His poor mum is polishing the windows and see this arrow flying towards her. She jumps onto the floor to get out the way and the arrow is half in the glass and half out. So Dad walks up the lady on the floor and says, ‘Do you have any problems with Indians around here?’ Think its best you go now Ian. Dad frequently told me his stories and I know the lot of them. I could really see how much Dad enjoyed telling me his stories, and I enjoyed listening even more.
At the time of this story Dad was living at home with his Mum May, and she’s asked me to say a few words on her behalf.
Ian,
We didn’t have time to say goodbye because everything happened so fast,
But in our hearts you’ll always be as memories are made to last,
I will miss you more than words can say,
I’m so proud to be your Mother, May.
God bless xxxxx
Dad was 36 when Haders came along and really added a purpose to his life and made it more meaningful. Me and Dad would speak openly about Haders, Don’t worry, all good things, but the conversation would mostly end in me and my Dad laughing at something Hadleigh did or said. And even now Haders always knows how to make me laugh. In some respects, I owe Hadleigh a lot. When he was younger he would moan to Dad and say ‘I’m bored, I want a younger brother.’ I don’t think he would say the same now! My childhood, I can honestly say, I wouldn’t swop it for the world. Countless hours me and Dad would play football and cricket together in the back garden. I remember how much I enjoyed myself, using the conservatory as the wicket keeper and dustbins as fielders. Much like my Dad I am very competitive, which Dad defiantly got off his Dad. Bob won the F.A cup in 1959 and record appearance holder for Forest till this day. Then Dad having the professional career he’s had, no pressure for me and Haders then.
Our competitiveness streak certainly came out when me Dad and Hadleigh had a game of darts. Time spent with me Dad and Hadleigh was only too rare, for many reasons like University, school work, you name it. However, this one time stands out to me. The three of us went into the loft and had a game of darts. I’m unsure who won, most likely Dad but I just remember how much we all laughed and took the mik out of each other. I always remember how close I would stand next to Dad whenever it was his turn to throw, and I would suddenly have a coughing fit in a desperate attempt to put him off. Dad knew obviously what I was doing and still beat me. Thinking about it now it probably only spurred him on. I’ll never forget how good he was checking out on double tops, it was uncanny, any other double no way but double tops all the time. Another thing that I’ll never forget is that he owes me £10 on the bet he lost. We used to bet all the time, one of my favourite ones was when we were watching darts and this guy needed like 146 to check out on, I said to Dad, give me a fiver if he checks out and he did. Dad just stood there and shook his head, while I was laughing hysterically both at the fact I won but Dad’s reaction also. Another time was snooker with me saying I could clear all the colours and I did. We used to have a laugh like that often. I will always think of Dad whenever I am gardening. He said to me after me asking what will he do when he retires and he said the garden.
Dad then had to look after two more boys Adam, (lanky lad Dad would call him) and Elliott (who was called bells). Here we all were, the 6 of us and 4 young lads. I’m sure that we weren’t easy, and at the start it was not. Scraps were a common thing, Hadleigh ‘accidently pushing Adam into a thorn bush’ or Elliott and I getting into a petty argument over a football result. But over time and as we all grew up and matured, some more than others. We got on better and better and as a family we went from strength to strength. At times we would all be laughing together and plotting ways to have a laugh at the others expense. At times when we were together, we would reframe from watching the TV and all of us just talk and talk. Which is something that not every household has the capability to do. Over the last year or two, Hadleigh and Adam were at university leaving just me and Elliott, I have numerous names for Elliott, but I can’t say. But what I will say is how much we’ve grown to get on with one another and the stupid bets that we had. We took inspiration of Dad and the bets he had with his Brother Neil.
Dad loved his holidays and often travelled to places such as Cyprus, turkey, Dubai, Prague where he got married and Eygypt where he proposed had special significance. One could suggest then he went on a plethora of holidays. And it was on holiday, Mexico, the last one I had with Dad, where I consider this to be my last proper day with him. Jo and Elliott decided to swim with Whale sharks leaving me and my Dad alone. I was asked lots of times by Jo and Elliott if I wanted to go, and the thought of it just being me and Dad all day, there was no way. The two of us could have done absolutely anything. But as I’ve often said to people, I could speak to my Dad all day, and that’s what I did. I was so excited about that day, just me and him no one else that’s all I wanted. So we walked down to the pool, got two sun loungers and didn’t waste a lot of time ordering a couple martinis. All we did was talk and talk about so many things, football, cricket, his plans for the house, my plans, his later life plans and his work. Where I remember he told me the story of one of his favourite projects, the Radcliffe road stand at Trent Bridge. But that day, I don’t think I will ever forget, and it went far too fast. I remember the time being around 5 at night and just thinking that my time with him was coming to an end. I only wish I had more days like that.
I will, for the rest of my life remember my Dad, I loved him so much, and when he died a part of me went with him. My life will never be the same, good things won’t seem quite as good and sunny days won’t seem quite as sunny. He was a great Father to me, and I am grateful that I held his hand until his last heartbeat. Even when he was lying in his bed I remember I would just hold him and smile, and just think how proud I am to say he was my Dad and I’m his son. Some people say that I’m like my Dad, and the biggest compliment I have ever heard is, as long as we have Miles, we have Ian. I idolised my father and all I want to be is like him, I used to hang onto his every word when he was giving me advice. The last words I said to him while he was in hospital was that, I love you and I’ll do you proud. I’m going to miss so much about him, his smile, how he made me laugh, I will picture him just closing the front door after work in his suit and putting his arms out for a hug, and just if I saw something in the paper I would show it him and we would talk about it, I actually had another one to show him but I never got the chance. I’m going to miss making him a coffee. But most of all, on special days when he should be there and he won’t, when his grandchildren ask where’s grandad. My 21st birthday, my wedding day, even though I told him I’d never get married. There will never be a day when I don’t think of you Dad, just know that, I love you and I’ll do you proud.

My brilliant Dad,

Thank you for everything you taught me and everything you did for me. You were a fantastic father and I am so fortunate to have such a vast collection of happy memories with you, I would love to list them all but words just don’t do them justice. I am so proud to call you my Dad, I will never forget you and I will certainly never stop loving you. I never broke a promise to you, I promised you I would pass my GCSE’s, college and university and I did just that. My final promise to you is that I will always try to do you proud in everything that I do. I’ll also give forest an extra loud cheer for you on match days.

Love you so much,
Hadleigh
__________________________
My dad didn’t really like me telling people this story because some people might question his parenting, but when I was about four or five years old he let me watch my favourite film to date which is Terminator 2, at the time I used to think of my dad as my very own terminator because he was so much bigger, stronger and smarter than me and he always seemed to do everything to perfection, especially trimming the hedges which to this day I’m still convinced he used a spirit level. Now at the age of 23 I am just about coming to terms with the fact that my dad wasn’t an indestructible killer robot sent from the future to protect me but those original feelings of me looking up to him are still so apparent.

Despite being very successful dad was very simplistic; he cared very little for expensive designer clothing, his favourite place to eat was the Meadow Covert pub in west bridgford or “The MC” as he liked to call it, his favourite meal was toast served with either tinned macaroni cheese or Brussels pate, his stag do was spent watching documentaries with a few beers and his favourite thing to do in his spare time was gardening. He did try to teach me to love gardening when I was younger, but I surprisingly took a pass on that one. It was a nice offer but I imagine there are a few other things that children find more interesting than weeding.

My father’s favourite song was Robbie Williams’ cover of Mack the knife he liked this song as not only is it an all-time classic but also anyone who saw his number plate will know he liked his nick name “McK”. There is a line in that song which typifies dad, the line is “5 will get you 10 Mack is back in town.” The reason why I believe this line epitomised dad is because he always went above and beyond everyone’s requests and expectations. I remember him trying to install this quality in me when I was struggling with university work, he would always tell me to read around the subject, so that I would not only have the required knowledge to do the work but I would have a good understanding of everything that it relates to. It is also relevant because I would quite often pop up to his office the week before pay day and ask him to lend me some petty cash so that I could go to the pub, get lunch, etc. he would always give me what I asked for without question but only after first noting it down on a spreadsheet that he saved to his laptop to track my debt, but he would never expect me to pay him back. In fact on one occasion when I must have been unwell I actually went to pay him back and he didn’t accept the money because he thought it was funny and wanted to see how long it would take for my debt to reach £100. Dad was always generous in this way and would regularly donate to charity, not that I am comparing my back pocket to charity. Dad was especially generous at Christmas, he loved Christmas and this year it will be very hard as it was his turn to have us all. Christmas with dad and Jo was always special, I remember last year he asked me for some suggestions of presents, I sent him a list of suggestions and said any of them would be lovely. At the age of 22 and no longer living with him I didn’t expect him to make a big fuss and just one of those items on the list would have been perfect, after all I only bought him a bottle of whiskey in return. But it got to Christmas day and I arrived to find a big pile of presents waiting for me and discovered that once I opened them Dad had got me everything that was on the list plus more.

If people were to ask me what I thought about my father there are two words that stand out to me which I associate with him and those are brilliance and pride. Brilliance because he didn’t know how to do a bad job. He was a brilliant son, husband and father, he had a brilliant career, he was a brilliant chess player and even if he did say so himself I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say he was a brilliant footballer. The only thing that I can think of which wasn’t brilliant about my dad were his dreadful jokes, when me and my brother hear a poor joke it’s not a “bad joke” it’s a “dad joke”. My father’s favourite joke to tell which I worn is not brilliant was “I went to eastern Europe the other week and I was surprised to find they didn’t have any street lights, they have the light fittings but the Germans have taken all the poles”… but then again you’re all laughing so maybe I’m wrong.
I associate the word pride with my father mainly because of my own feelings towards him. It is no secret that attempting to follow in his footsteps and working at Gleeds myself I am immensely proud of who my dad was and what he achieved. I am also very proud of the fact that he chose me to be his best man when he married my step mum Jo, which is something I will cherish for the rest of my life because not many people can say they were their own fathers best man. He was himself also a very proud man, he always ensured that he was dressed very smartly for work (not so much outside of work but we’ll let that slide) and he always conducted himself in a professional and proper manner. When I think of him I picture him dressed in a suit, wearing one of his many forest ties, walking so fast through the office that his jacket is being blown in the wind almost like a super heroes cap, but at the same time doing so with a big smile on his face giving me a wink on his way past my desk.

I have many happy memories with Dad but one of my favourites being when he took me to buy my watch a few days before my 18th birthday. Unfortunately over the last 10 years there were very few occasions where I would get to spend time alone with dad, but on this day it was just the two of us all day. We were in town for hours and we must have gone to every jewellery shop at least twice because I couldn’t decide which one I wanted, I dragged him from one side of town to the other and then back again, but Dad never moaned. I’ll never forget after searching for a few hours we had a rest in a coffee shop, we sat by the window, watching passers-by whilst we had a quick chat which turned into a couple hours. We spoke about the fact that I was moving to Birmingham for university within the next few weeks and I suddenly appreciated the day even more. In the eyes of the law only, I was going to be an adult in a matter of days, I was going to move to Birmingham in the coming weeks and I then realised that times like this would be all too rare in fact the only time after that when I can recall it being just Dad and I would be when I came to work for Gleeds three years later.

The last time I properly saw Dad was perfect and is something I will never forget; Dad, My brother and I went to the Wilford Green pub next to work for lunch. Whenever the three of us got together it was always special and we’d constantly give each other banter and that lunch time was no exception. We finished our lunch and much to dads surprise me and Miles had forgotten our wallets… again. Not that he would let us pay anyway. I didn’t realise at the time but that was the last time I ever spoke to Dad face to face.

Although my dad passed away at an early age I take some comfort with something he said to Jo when he was released from hospital after the first heart attack which was “If I did die and that was it I can honestly say that I have had a good life”. Ever since Jo told me this I have thought about those words every night. I have since realised that with the career, family and life he had and all the holidays he went on, he has seen and achieved so much more than most people would in two life times. I do honestly believe that if I were to become just half the man my dad was I would be better than most.

For 9 years now Ian has been my Step-Dad and more than that he's been a support, a role model, someone to talk to, someone that I loved very much and who I know loved me also.

He was there for me all through the most difficult times- back in my year 7 when I was struggling to settle into secondary school. I'll never forget one night when I was really upset and I was at my dad's house and mum and Ian phoned me up to ask if I wanted to go to see the musical Oklahoma at the theatre. I can honestly say it was one of the best memories of my entire year 7.

As the 9 years went on I loved Ian more and more to the point where I felt he was my second dad. Always there with great advice and great laughs.

We share so many memories together, from our travels around the world to our late night conversations sat in my bedroom whilst mum did school work downstairs. He would tell me all about his childhood, about how he coped with all of his exams and about how much of an incredible support his mum, May, was to him.

I'll never forget, about two weeks before he passed he was sat in my room telling me the story of his school sports day. He got to school that day- completely oblivious to the fact that it was sports day- only to find that he'd left his PE kit at home. His first event was coming up soon and he was told that if he didn't have his kit he couldn't take part. He sprinted home as fast as he could, rushed into the house, grabbed his kit and ran out again. Already out of breath he arrived at school to be told that the other racers were on the starting line. After running several kilometres home and back he was still able to take part in the race, which was a long distance race if I hadn't mentioned that. Unbelievably he made it to the winners podium, although I don't think he was in first place. But that was him all over: He'd never give up, he'd go above and beyond.

Another thing I always appreciated was that he was always able to make me laugh- whatever mood I was in. Whether it was one of his silly jokes like his infamous 'poles joke' or one of his hilarious stories or just his everyday mannerisms like his pitch perfect whistling of the 'A Fistful Of Dollars Theme'.

His generosity and kindness also were just incredible. One day about two years ago (give or take) I'd had an awful day at school and I was very upset. Sat in my room I heard a knock on my door and Ian walked in with a small turtle made out of ivory in his hands. For those that don't know I have a collection of turtles from around the world. He'd bought it several months before hand in the hope of giving it to me at a time when it could cheer me up most. Just over a month ago my mum and I were trying to find one of Ian's ties for me to wear to the funeral and all of a sudden we heard a beeping. It was Ian's digital watch. I reached up to the shelf where it was sat to turn it off and whilst reaching up I found a box up there of his stuff. It was quite dusty and hidden from prying eyes. I opened it up and tears welled in my eyes because inside the box were 6 turtles. He'd been saving them, the same as before. They were beautiful. I now have a shelf in my display cabinet just for those 6 plus the gifts he bought me in Madeira just a few days before he died and the ivory turtle. Also on the shelf is a copy of the poem that I read at the funeral along with the order of service.

I loved Ian so much and I will never forget his smile, his laugh or his love of gardening. His last birthday will always stay in my memory with 'half a dozen Mexicanos singing to him' (arranged by Miles, my mum and I). A sombrero on his head in the baking Mexican heat laughing his head off (see the photo). He was the best Step-Dad any kid could've asked for and my life certainly won't ever be the same without him. Even now, when I hear the clock strike half 5 I listen out thinking he could be home in the next 20 minutes from work, his keys jangling as a big 'hello' echoes through the house.

I love you so much Smihan and although your time was too short I'm just glad I've had the best 9 years of my life with you creating so many memories. I just wish it had been so much longer. Elliot xxxxx

For many years Ian was our next door neighbour in Dunster Rd and we have many fond memories of him and the boys playing cricket and football in the back garden. People have referred to his listening skills but he was also a very good talker and we often had long conversations over the hedges. Incidentally Ian sometimes came round to cut our side of the hedge when he felt it wasn't quite up to his standard.
We were thrilled to be invited to his and Jo's wedding in Prague and it was delightful to spend the day with Ian, Jo and all the boys. We will miss his warmth, humour and good nature as will many friends and all his family.

Gleeds held a Christmas Jumper day on Friday, 18 December in Ian's memory so that the money raised could be donated to the BHF.

If you look at the photographs I have enclosed 2 that are quite significant to our time in Madeira. The first is a sunset with a crane silhouetted against a darkening sky. Ian took this photo from his hospital window in intensive care the first stay he had in hospital where he recovered from the 2 heart attacks. The 2nd photo is the view from our room at the Videmar hotel during sunrise which I took in the early hours of the morning of the 7th November which was the day Ian passed away. Both photos hold a painful ,emotional and disturbing memory for me and yet I find them beautiful to look at. I wanted to share them with you all. Jo xx

I would like to say a very big thank you to all my wonderful family, friends, work colleagues, Sarah, Colum, Chris and my Gleeds family, for the unconditional love, support, care, time, texts, emails, phone calls, tissues,hugs and kisses during these dreadful 6 weeks. I honestly couldn't have got through it without you all and I will be forever grateful for you.
I attach the poem I wrote for Ian which was read at the funeral on December 3rd 2015. So many of you have said how moving the words are and how you can relate to them yourselves, so take comfort in reading them again. The final verse is what I hope for us all as we move on together on this torturous journey, as we grieve together and as we remember together.
With love always,
Jo xx

JO'S POEM FOR IAN.

If tears could build a stairway,
And memories were a lane,
We would walk right up to heaven
And bring you back again.

No farewell words were spoken
No time to say goodbye,
You were gone before we knew it
And only God knows why.

Our hearts still ache in sadness,
And secret tears still flow.
What it meant to lose you,
No one will ever know.

Your loving smile and gentle laugh,
Made all the difference in our day.
Your endless wisdom , timeless advice,
Always helped us find our way.

Your ability to reason,
And your calming voice,
The way that you would help us,
In making the right choice.

Your Wisdom and your wit,
With your tender care,
You always made the time,
And you were always there.

In you there was no equal,
You were in a class all of your own.
And because of all the love you gave,
We'll never be alone.

A million times we needed you
A million times we cried.
If love alone could have saved you,
You never would have died.

In life we loved you dearly
In death we love you still.
For in our hearts we hold a place
That only you can fill.

We hope that you will know,
As you watch us from above,
How much we all adored you,
And how much you are loved.

But now we know you want us,
To mourn for you no more.
To remember all the happy times
Life still has much in store.

Since you'll never be forgotten
We pledge to you today,
A hallowed place within our hearts
Is where you'll always stay. All my love forever, Your wife, Jo xx